


The Shirogane Family Rules

by tafih



Series: The Amue Universe [2]
Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, shallura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9633197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tafih/pseuds/tafih
Summary: [Directly post-Season 2 because I refuse to believe that Shiro is dead].Everyone is desperate to find Shiro but their search leads them to a very different, very rash, and very not-so-'Takashi' Shirogane and soon they learn about how the Shirogane family has a long list of rules that might change the very fabric of the narrative.





	1. Rule #2: Family Comes First

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically all my headcanons in fiction form.

Pidge barrels into main control room, which has been steadily turning in to a War Council room as the Princess, Keith, Lance, and the Marmorites discuss their “next move” over and over again. After all, _Voltron needs five paladins._

“I think I found Shiro!” she shouts while waving her tablet around, her words disrupting the bitter yet cooperative austerity.

Hope breaks across Allura’s face and she rushes to the small paladin, “Really? Where? How?”

“I was able to cross-reference my Galra-finder logarithm-,” Lance makes a quip about the Galra finder that everyone ignores. “- with the database from that ship we took over after the battle,” Pidge rattles off as she pulls up a holographic interface and begins scrolling through a series of code. “And I found his name in a catalog for a special prison, _but,”_ she sings to show off her uncertainty, “it’s more like a zoo.”

“A zoo?” The princess raises a brow.

“Yeah, my translator said that it was a menagerie. Here, look, it has a catalogue of all the… _specimens,_ which is – I don’t know – a really weird way of describing it, but they have a bunch of weird stuff like-,”

“ _Pidge_ ,” Keith urges.

“Right,” she chirps apologetically and points to a particular line, “There, it says: Shirogane – Human Specimen from System X-9-Y.”

“Well, _that_ sounds ominous,” Lance groans.

“I’ve been trying to get coordinates but the only consistent thing that keeps popping up is just the word: Lotor.”

The Mamorites grimace at the name.

“Lotor? As in Prince Lotor?” Kolivan asks.

“I don’t know,” Pidge says with a shrug.

“If it is Prince Lotor,” the leader of the Blade grumbles, “That’s not a good thing.”

* * *

In the middle of Messier 87 galaxy, a lone oblong star-craft floats in the middle of its dense gases and gamma rays.

The ship is a massive elongated orb of sleek, black, ominous metal that complements the endless shadow of deep space. It slowly crawls behind a large planet to see its star – a morning in its own menacing method.

Inside, the half-blood prince stalks through the halls, whistling an eldritch tune that was actually once an Altean song-spell in the distant past. The sound of his footsteps and his long, flowing cape trail behind him through the dark, empty halls; he stops before a chamber, nods to the sentinels guarding it and enters with a flourish.

The chamber displays seven ostentatiously decorated cryo-pods, all holding a figure veiled beneath a layer of icy sustenance. He stalks to a pod on the far right, still whistling, and taps a few buttons to release the person inside from their sleep.

“Good morning,” he releases a supercilious laugh.

A figure falls from a cryo-pod into his ambivalent arms and she groans from years of enforced slumber.

He only holds her until she wakes and when her eyes open, he slips his arms away, letting her fall to the ground in an unceremonious fashion.

The girl glowers from her place on the floor, still attempting to retake her limbs with her nerves. “Why did you wake me?” she growls accusatorily.

“So hostile,” he chuckles, peering down at her with sadistic satisfaction. “I have a surprise for you.”

She sneers, untrusting.

“I’m letting you go,” he sings. “Well, the Paladins are trying to release you. One of them tried to hack into my security feed and saw your name on my catalog of allowed pets.”

“Fuck you, Lotor,”

The prince smiles with dismissive warmth, “Is that the right way to treat the person who saved you?”

“You’re not a person. You’re an alien.”

He scoffs, “A person – even in your human tongues – refers to any creature that has a body and a mind. In fact, I would consider myself a superior person. Wouldn’t you?”

“You tell me, halfie,”

He swiftly strikes her across the face with the back of his palm. The sound of his injury echoes in the chamber and the young woman grits her teeth from the pain emanating from her cheek. With calmly sinister eyes, he sighs, “Why do you do that? I want to make sure that you greet our guests in good form.”

She pushes herself off the floor but her legs shake from disuse. “Why are you letting me go? I’ll tell them everything.”

“I would be upset if you didn’t,” he facetiously pouts. “I need an occasion to _observe_ them.”

“What?”

“I take pride in my abilities to read the _persons_ I come into contact with. There’s a reason why Zarkon kept me around and let me do what I want despite _things_. It’s because I will always be an asset in times of war. Besides, my mind works in ways you will never comprehend.”

“Obviously,” she says snidely.

“Well, I better prepare to greet our guests.” He turns to the sentinels at the door. “Take this one to cell Omega-8, and record the change in the catalog so that they can find her.”

He returns his eerie gaze to her. “And do not fret, Miss Shirogane. You will see me again soon.”

She hopes that won’t be the case.

* * *

The next face Ryoko Shirogane does see is a helmet. Two helmets, actually.

“Aren’t you a little short to be paladins?” she plainly states to the paladins of the Red and Yellow lions, proud of her reference that falls on deaf ears since those ears belong to the taller ones of the group, but she finds that out later.

“Noona?”

Ryoko sneers at the term and utters, “Uuuuuuh.”

Keith whips off his helmet in a huff and shouts, “Ryo-Noona?”

“Holy shit.”

“Ryo…I…how?”

“No, no, no,” she repeats over and over while refusing to look at the teenager.

“Noona, it’s me, Keith.”

Ryo rapidly shakes her head. “Nope. Nope. I can’t. Nope. You’re supposed to be twelve years old. And this tall,” she gestures a hand to just below her chest, “With a squeaky voice and-,”

“Ryo, it’s me and we…we lost Shiro.”

Now, she turns to face him. “How do you lose a person? As _big_ as Takashi? And how do you have the same exact mullet haircut that you had as a kid. Oh my goodness.”

He ignores her and his thoughts begin to muddle. “We…thought he was here. We thought he was you. I-,”

Ryo lifts a hand to stop him and uses the other to massage the bridge of her nose. “Ok, you can explain everything later but right now, let’s get out of here, ok? I don’t want to spend another waking moment on this ship with that hyper-sexualized alien douchebag.” She points to the entrance the two paladins had blasted open in her cell and dashes out.

She looks right, then left, then right and begins jogging down the hall after beckoning the boys to follow her.

“Um, our lions are in the opposite direction,” Hunk huffs and heaves as they traverse down the long hall while lugging his large bayard to shoot the occasional sentinel or droid that they run into.

“Yeah, sure, but I want to grab her first.”

“Who?”

“The Altean Princess.”

Hunk and Keith pause.

“WHAT?”

Without any further explanation, Ryo leads them to the chamber of cryo-pods Lotor had her in before. She roundhouse kicks the sentinel guards, takes one of their blasters and quickly shoots at the door with rapid-fire. Then she pauses.

“I’m stupid,” she says to herself then points the blaster at the control panel, shoots, and the massive doors dematerialize into the frame that towers into the ceiling.

She enters the room and makes a beeline for the one in the center – the one that holds the most beautiful, perfect being that Ryo had ever laid eyes on.

A humanoid with pale chocolate skin, luscious gold hair, and two pink moons cresting against her cheekbones – beauty in her form is beauty indefinite, Ryo had determined years ago.

“Uh, ok, who’s that?” Hunk asks, disrupting the moment of admiration. “She looks like Allura.”

“Lotor calls her ‘Princess’ but she said that she’s actually a Duchess or whatever,” Ryo explains without explaining as she hammers away at the interface of buttons besides the casing of the pod.

“So she’s an Altean?” Keith asks, “But Allura said she and Coran were the last of their kind.”

“They both told me that she’s Altean so I’m not going to say no.”

“They being?”

“Both her and Lotor. She says she’s the descendent of the last royal Alteans. Again,” she whips her head around to face the dumbfounded paladins. “We’ll compare notes later but I’m not leaving without Amue and considering we don’t have much time before Lotor finds out I’m stealing his most prized quote-unquote _exhibit_.” She makes the quotation marks with her fingers. “Do you mind shutting up for, like, two doboshes so that I can get her out of here from this palace of emotional abuse?”

Hunk and Keith exchange a glance. Then look back at her.

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” Ryo returns to her burden, tapping away.

After two doboshes, Hunk leans over and whispers, “So…who is she?”

“The alien or her?” Keith asks back.

“This _Noon-a_ or whatever.”

“ _Noona_  means older sister in Korean...and I used to call her that because she’s Shiro’s twin sister,” he answers at arduous length.

Hunk raises his brows then exclaims, while still whispering, “Whaaaat? How did she end up out here?”

“ ** _I_** don’t know,” Keith retorts defensively. “Last time I ever saw her was five or six years ago and she went with a Garrison Science squad to Jupiter.”

“Jupiter’s moons, actually, koyangi,” Ryo adds.

Keith pouts at being called a kitten while Hunk asks why she was at Jupiter’s moons.

“I was sent to study the potential of plant growth on Jupiter’s moons since the soil on Mars could only handle so much. There, I ran into Keith’s mom and the rest is history. There we go,” Ryo stands and pushes one last button, the hydraulics of the pod steam and whine and the Altean is unveiled to the atmosphere in a puff of smoke.

“You met my mom?” Keith asks as Ryo reaches out to pull the alien monarch out and down into her arms.

“Oooh!” Hunk gleefully chirps with a little jump, “Is she the Galra one in the family? Or is it Keith’s grandpa? I really want to know.”

Ryo chuckles as she carries the body to them. “Grandmother, actually. But again, I’ll explain everything later when we get to your ship.”

Hunk reflexively lowers his arms to take her and Ryo sets her down gently then slowly slips her hand from beneath the Altean’s hair, tenderly stroking her face. Then Ryo looks up at Hunk and smirks.

“So, you carry her and I’ll shoot all the sentinels and we’ll be out of here in seventeen ticks.” She grabs Keith’s bayard from his hand and it morphs into a large machine gun. She dashes off into the hall. “Your guys’ lions are _this_ way, right?”

“Are you sure that’s Shiro’s sister?” Hunk asks apprehensively as they follow after her. “They’re nothing alike. I mean, they do look alike but yeah, _completely_ different personalities.”

“Come on, fuckers! Stick _this_ up your asses!” Ryo shouts while laughing maniacally and shooting all of the sentinels coming their way.

Keith blinks. “Yeah,” he mutters quietly in silent regret. “That’s her.”

Hunk contemplates this for a moment as he balances the sleeping Altean duchess in his arms while trying to run. Then, “Wait. Is she using _your_ bayard?”

* * *

Rule #2 Addendum: Our family includes whoever we decide to include. 

 


	2. Rule #3: Min Shirogane (Mama Shiro) is always right

_Representing Japan, Korea and the United States, Lieutenant Colonel Min Shirogane became the foremost proponent and co-founder of the Galaxy Garrison Youth program. She, herself, has several manned flights to Venus and Mars under her belt. Despite being a single mother of two-_

“Three,” Min Shirogane muttered under her breath. She closed her eyes and sighed. She could feel the audience grow tortured under accolade after accolade. She never knew how to accept compliments. So she could not imagine how an audience of complete strangers could accept compliments meant for her.

“Now, it is my great pleasure-.”

“Ah, my cue,” she whispered as she stood.

“To bestow the Mir Award for Distinguished Service onto Lieutenant Colonel Min Shirogane.”

Applause thundered and Min approached the podium, crossing the sea of the light-drowned stage. When she reached her introducer, she slid her boots together, straightened, and saluted. The congresswoman – who Min knew since college and never really liked since she always conveniently forgot that they lived in the same dorm – extended her hand out. Their hands shook. The medal got pinned. The microphone buzzed inches away from her lips.

Peering over the landscape of the auditorium – a desert of eyes and uniforms, she rested her gaze upon her family – imperfect but deeply and wonderfully loved.

Her mother held little Keith in his lap, Takashi pretended not to squirm in his seat, and her daughter glared and tapped her foot incessantly in her perpetual mood. Her heart exploded with pride and satisfaction. There, in row G, seats 3 to 5, was something she made. S _he made that something good._ This award was chaff in the wind to her compared to those faces.

“Thank you, Congresswoman Chang. It is my great honor to receive something that my heroes received in the past. And it is not without cause for humility. I never would have gotten to this point, standing here in front of all of you without the constant support of those around me. There are many I _need_ to thank. My Garrison superiors and colleagues, my team, my parents, my incredible children…” she paused as her gaze fell upon a familiar set of silver-blue eyes.

In the back, near the door, handsome as always, Soren Holgersson – her never-husband, stared back and he smiled when he realized he caught her eye.

“And my cat,” she muttered deadpan. Laughter flutters about the room. “She’s the only one who didn’t complain about all the hours I put into this program.”

Laughter again.

“But I don’t regret any of those hours because the heart of this program beats proud and true. The ability we have as a human race to go and look beyond our world allows us to look inward. Going into orbit and seeing our great blue home – puts absolutely everything in perspective. Some may say that our planet is not special in the grand scheme of the universe – Earth being one miniscule speck in the vast, expanding cosmos but I would disagree – because Earth is _our_ home,” she asserted while looking at the faces she called home. “Our home full of people with enough curiosity to thrust us out there so that we can _learn_ more. At our core, we are learners. And what better learners do we have in our midst besides our youth? I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to be a part of something _this_ important ever again – so I am relishing the time I have right now. Thank you very much.”

Applause, handshakes, salutes, small talk, thank you’s, promises to meet up for dinner – words and words and words filter in and out until Min sent her mother off in a taxi right outside the auditorium so that she could meet up with some CEOs at a country club.

“I’m still mad that you didn’t mention me _specifically_ ,” the feisty Korean elder snarked as she climbed into the vehicle. “All those fancy words and you don’t even mention the woman who spent 36 hours in labor to bring you into this world _and_  who took care of _your_ kids whenever you went off gallivanting in space.”

“Next time, the whole speech will be about you, mom. Don’t worry. Go have fun with your fat cat friends.”

“Hey, they’re the reasons why you have a youth program in the first place.”

“Right,” Min sighed then kissed her mother on the cheek.

“Bye, grandma!” Ryo shouted from the sidewalk. The boys waved goodbye.

Min’s mother flapped her hand to and fro back to her grandchildren then shooed her daughter away so that she could close the door to the car.

“Hurricane Lee-Shirogane has left the building,” Min commented as the vehicle hummed down the street.

Then, “Dad!” Ryoko shouted excitedly.

Min turned to see her daughter bludgeon her body into her father’s embrace.

Completely used to the raging force that is his daughter, Holgersson chuckled warmly and patted her head. “Hey, Robot.” He looked up at his son and smiled awkwardly. “Hey, Takoyaki,”

“Hi, dad,” Takashi replied politely, with a civil nod.

“And _you_ ,” Soren said as he knelt to Keith’s eye level, “Must be Mr. Kogane, huh?”

Keith, mostly hiding behind Takashi’s legs, nodded.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Soren – Takashi and Ryoko’s dad.”

“Hi,”

“You didn’t need to come all the way out here. Langley’s a bit far, isn’t it?” Min articulates. 

“I asked for the weekend off. Didn’t use a lot of my vacation days so…” He had the tendency to end his sentences with “so…”

A pause drifted between them.

Ryoko interrupted it after a glint of discernment, “Dad, we’re planning on walking back home from here. Want to walk with us?”

Soren smiled. “Yeah, I’d like to. That alright?”

Min sighed. “I’m fine with that.”

Takashi tried to hide his scowl. Ryo started leading her father down the sidewalk, leaving the other family members behind.

“Takashi,” Min muttered to her son, “Why don’t you play catch-up with your dad, kay? Leave Keith with me.”

Albeit with reluctance in his brow, Takashi nodded, let go of Keith’s hand and walked a few yards to join his sister and father further down the pavement. Holgersson turned and thanked her with sincere eyes – slightly veiled by his glasses. The three walked on ahead to talk about the daily minutia of school classes, band practice, and potential crushes. The sunlight flickered through the leaves of the trees. 

Min, meanwhile, bent down to face the little Kogane who had clung onto her leg as soon as Takashi let go of his hand.

“Do you want me to carry you?” she asked.

“No,” he whispered into her pants. He did want to be carried but he did not want to be rude. 

“I was very proud of you today. Takashi told me you were very well behaved.”

“Shiro said that it was important and Obaa-chan is scary.”

Min nodded, “That is true.”

“Is it hard being a mom?” Keith suddenly asked her.

“In some ways but not really. I enjoy it.”

“It seems hard,” the little Kogane sighed, “Life is hard.”

Min blinked.

_Oh goodness, this child._

_“_ Are you spending too much time with Takashi?” Min asked him as she hoisted him onto her hip.

The five-year-old nestled into her shoulder. His body felt warm – he was getting tired, Min reasoned.

They all eventually reach an utterly suburban park in the middle of the housing district of the Garrison and Keith suddenly regained a burst of energy so that he could play on the hover-pods with his cousins.

While the kids laughed, Soren finally approached his never-wife and said, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“That's the reason why I came...obviously. I wanted to give you this too,” he muttered with a faint smile as he pulled out a small token – the size and shape of a poker chip – and placed it in her hand.

“Your three-year chip?”

“Yeah, another accomplishment you can add to your long, trailing list.”

She flipped it in over in her fingers. “But this is your accomplishment. Not mine.”

“Just as much yours as it is mine, Min,” he insisted softly.

They heard Takashi yelling at Ryo and Keith to be careful in the distance. They turned to see the small Kogane on the shoulders of Ryo who was yelling and running through the woodchips.

“Be careful. Someone is going to get hurt,” Min warned from her position.

And, indeed, two minutes later, Ryo stood before her mother with a bleeding knee and a pout on her lips.

Keith was sniffling. He thought it was his fault.

“And, my darlings, what is Shirogane rule number 3?”

“Mom is always right,” Takashi chirped obediently while Ryo groaned something that sounded similar.

“But that’s not really a rule,” the small Kogane insisted.

“Oh, Keith, yes, it is.”

“More of a reality than a rule,” Soren laughed.

Ryo got her wound cleaned up; Keith had his tears wiped away; and Takashi finally got rid of his father-induced scowl.

The somewhat-family walked the leftover mile from the park to their home, without realizing it, in complete and natural comfort.

“What are you doing tonight?” Min asked as they walked into the foyer of the house and as the kids kicked off their shoes. Takashi lined his loafers neatly by the shoe rack then dashed off after his sister and Keith.

“Nothing, why?”

The children were already destroying the family room down the hall.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Ryo yelled from the hallway, “Would you like to stay forever?”

Soren smiled. “I’d like that.”

Min returned the smile. She placed a gentle, tender, and affectionate hand on his shoulder, looked up to meet his gaze, then leaned over to kiss him among the strewn shoes of their household.

* * *

Shiro looks at the scene. His eyes are sad. Tired. Bitter.

“Why are you showing me this?” he asks.

The person who played his mother turns to face him in this vision, this play, this façade of memory and hurt in a realm that seems off but too familiar. Her hand rests on Soren’s cheek for just a moment before she turns completely to face Takashi Shirogane, the Black Paladin.

As the sunlit house in the Garrison suburbs fades into a blend of black and purple, Min stares at the son who had grown ten years older than she would ever see in her lifetime. The void of the galaxies suspend the two above the stars. 

His body winces at the sight of her. He misses her so much.

“Takashi, to go forward you must let go of the pain that tethers you to the past.” Her voice echoes behind a filter of space-time. 

“Mom…” Liquid wells across his eyes.

“You must forgive him, Takashi.”

“I don’t want to.” He tries to keep it all buried. He buried it before - all that pain has been down in the depths of his forcibly forgotten memories. He wanted to keep it there. 

“It’s not his fault I’m gone.”

“Yes, it is,” he insists; tension accrues in his temples – they beat and pump in blood and headaches.

“The roads were icy.”

“He shouldn’t have come back.”

“There was a drunk driver.”

“He took you away from us.”

“We went to see a movie together. It was all very ordinary.”

“We were _sixteen_ – Keith was only seven.”

Min closed her eyes and her face wrinkled in distress. “I know.”

“He didn’t deserve anything from you. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness. He didn’t deserve your patience. He didn’t deserve your love,” Shiro seethes through grit teeth.

“But I loved your father, Takashi. And we both adored you and your sister. That was his biggest regret. He-,”

“He had children. He had _you_. He made vows that he didn’t keep – just so that he could get high.”

“He had a problem. He tried to fix it. He stayed sober for a long time – for you.”

No longer a man, Takashi Shirogane finds himself in the body of his fourteen-year-old self and he weeps. He throws himself onto his mother and grapples her warmth to him.

“Mom,” he sobs. “Um-ma,”

“My little boy, you’ve done so well. I am so proud of you. I always was.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she whispers love into his ear.

“I’m not strong enough to go on,” he admits with a small, trifling voice. “Everyone expects so much of me and I can’t do it.”

“You always put pressure on yourself to protect everyone – to protect Keith, your sister, _me_. And it didn’t help that you were forced to grow up at such a young age when I left.”

His forehead rests against the crook of her shoulder. He can smell her perfume.

“But you can only exert yourself so much. You have limits. You can let yourself go.”

“But I can’t. I’m the Black Paladin. I can’t…”

“Takashi,” Min draws her shoulder – her body, her comfort – away from him so that he can look upon her. “The universe is calling you to something greater than being the Black Paladin. That is why you are here now. But you can only achieve your destiny if you let it all out into the wind. You need to be prepared. You need to let go of your anger and your bitterness. Be washed clean. Learn from this moment and go on to do greater things.”

And she fades.

“I love you.”

* * *

Two years after Min Shirogane was awarded a plaque to signify her service to the Garrison, when the twins were only sixteen, a car accident took the lives of both her and her husband, Soren Holgersson, after they had gone out to dinner and a movie.

All three children never really got over it.

They were, legally, wards of the state under the care of their grandmother until the twins turned eighteen, which is when they applied to become Keith’s legal guardians. They were the ones who drove him to school and packed his lunches, after all.

After which, due to their mother’s influence, the twins were admitted to the Garrison; and given a small apartment on base and a stipend based upon their parents’ 401K. Their grandmother made sure they managed their money well and that they never went hungry.

Takashi entered the pilot program and became the youngest and most accomplished cadet and, eventually, pilot within a few years. Ryo pursued a degree in astro-biology and became the personal assistant to one of the foremost scientists of that field.

When they turned twenty-one, and Keith was on the cusp of tweenhood, Takashi embarked on his second mission out to the asteroid belt as co-pilot. Ryo joined a team that led her to a five-year stint on the moons of Jupiter.

Ryo stopped sending video letters after a while.

Keith began the pilot program.

Shiro started preparing for his first and last mission to Kerberos.

Life tore them all apart then brought them all back together.

* * *

Rule #3: Min Shirogane is always right. Even when she's wrong, she's right. 


	3. Rule #9: Listen well but always stand up for what you believe in

Kolivan – the leader of the Blade of Marmora and the one who honestly deals with too much shit – just blankly stares at Ryoko Shirogane-Holgersson.

Ryo, with a completely stoic face, sits on a frowning Keith and has her legs and arms around him in a scissor hold on the ground by his controller chair of the command room of the castle.

Ryo comments, flatly, to Kolivan, “You had the grandson of _the_ Mora, the Galran Empress of Drule, the original Red Paladin, right _here_ ,” She nods down to Keith, whose face was turning as red as his jacket from lack of air, “And you guys didn’t even realize?”

Kolivan sighs. “We could not rule out the possibility that he stole the knife. Or that it was given to his family by someone else.” He wonders whether her antics were normal human behavior or if she is simply strange. He learns in the future that it is the latter.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Ryo drones in disbelief, “Really didn’t notice that his butt-knife is _the_ knife?”

“Wait…so Zarkon’s Keith’s uncle?” Hunk questions.

“Grand-uncle,”

“Whoa. This is a _lot_ to process,” the Yellow Paladin huffs out while gesticulating out with his hands.

“Mora was an ally against the war – a close friend of King Alfor. She was even taught Allura how to use various weapons during her youth.” Coran exclaims and turns to the princess, “Do you remember her?”

“Yes, a bit… I was never too close with the Paladins of old apart from my father. But,” She looks up. “I just can’t believe there’s another Altean – and one of royalty too,” Allura whispers quietly, in awe, into the hand that she had to her lips.

“Is she?” Ryo asks, releasing Keith just slightly so he can get air.

Allura nods – her expression displays such inhibited hope. “I remember her being born – 10,000 years ago. Amue was the name given to my cousin’s daughter. I just…” Her face crumples in fear, in faith. Her shoulders hiccup and she looks at Coran. “I can’t believe we’re not the last Alteans. I…”

Coran, representing everyone else in the space, rushes to her and places her in his comforting embrace. The Paladins all step back from their steps forward to her now that she has someone at her side.

“Thank you,” she mutters to him and places a hand over the one he had on her shoulder. “I’m fine. I simply…do not know what or how to feel.” She fixes her gaze to Ryo.

The young human woman had _his_ eyes – exactly, Allura notices. The same shape, aura, color and warmth.

The same eyes that she might get lost in the nostalgia of the past, if she is not careful. Beyond that too, the princess notes that Ryoko’s confidence and demeanor speak to a shared resemblance with Shiro but her boisterous charisma and personality are her own. Despite how familiar she may feel, she is still a stranger - Allura reminds herself of this.

The Universe took away one Shirogane from them and brought another to them.

“I have so many questions. So many…”

“Well, that’s what this time is for,” Ryo responds gently and stands to attention. “What questions do you have? I’ll do my best to answer them…provide as clear of an exposition as I can.”

“Right, thank you, well, how did she survive? How did she end up with Lotor?”

“We could only talk in brief intervals. But she mentioned that she had lived on a planet of Altean refugees. But that soon was taken over by the Galra but Haggar intervened.”

“Why?”

“The druids – they needed a temple, they needed Altean blood.”

“Yes, yes, I supposed,” Allura comments softly, thinking of her encounter with Haggar. “So there are many others out there?”

“Only enough to be followers of Haggar. The druids need to come from somewhere.”

“This is so bizarre. I cannot believe that Haggar is Altean.” Coran says aside.

“And they’ve been trying to access the power of _the Goddess of All_ ,” Ryo announces and something strange descends upon them all – a weird, off, silence – as if a spirit had rushed through.

At this, Allura scowls. “That tired dogma of Old Altea? What reason would her druids want to-,”

“Because she exists,” Ryo grows serious and commanding – in a way that Keith finds reminiscent of his aunt.

Allura glowers. “During my years on Altea, the religion of the Goddess of All only existed out of reverence for tradition – it has no backing – it’s a child’s myth.”

“Zarkon has the life-blood of thousands of planets, species, and peoples flowing through his veins, not only because Haggar spent every waking moment of the past ten thousand years trying to figure out how but also because they are siphoning the forces of The Goddess of All.”

“You are certain?” Coran asks.

“Yes.”

“And how do you know all of this? It’s awfully convenient for you to have all of these answers, isn’t it?” Allura questions, her suspicions unveiled (as per the usual, she fears).

The room grows tense.

“Well, I don’t know enough,” Ryo responds, cutting right through the awkwardness in stride, “Lotor would always leave out a key piece of information whenever he talked with me.”

“And why did he _talk_ with you?” This time, Kolivan sounds suspicious.

Ryo shrugs. “He liked having – _a sounding board_ – if you will. Someone to rant at, to lecture at, he’s complicated.”

Kolivan exchanges a look with one of his commanders. “We heard rumors about him but there isn’t enough. They say he is a hermit.”

“Only because he had been exiled in his youth. He holds grudges, bitterness, a lot of things against Zarkon. He is a completely different enemy. Zarkon was all tyrannical strength. With Lotor, it is subtle and manipulative. _He_ ’s the one most actively looking for the Goddess of all and that just simply,” she puts her hands together, “aligned with Zarkon’s goals, for once.”

“What are you talking about? What is this goddess?” Keith interjects; stepping forward, overcome with the thoughts of maybe he needs to act like a leader.

Ryo sighs, her body sets against the Red Paladin’s controller chair in a way that Shiro does when he finds a moment to rest and Allura finds her heart twisting at the sight.

Coran intervenes and explains to the Paladins, “The Goddess of All is a being of ultimate power and balance – the ancient Alteans worshipped her as the source of all quintessence in the universe.”

“So God?” Lance asks with his brows raised.

“Something like that,” Ryo comments with a well-meaning smile. “From what Lotor explained, the Galra worshipped her too and that the Five Lions were formed from the energies in the temple dedicated to her. But that is all I know.” Her shoulders relent with her assertions. “Lotor has taken his menagerie around the universe, searching through old temples and ruins to see if there are any more clues. Look,” she looks at Allura with a firm gaze.

Allura finds herself drawing her eyes away.

Ryo says, “I’m sure you have your doubts. I don’t blame you but this could ultimately alter the tide of the war. With Lotor at the helm now, who knows what could happen. This could be our chance – finding out all that we can about the Goddess of All and going from there.”

“No,” Kolivan interposes. Ryo glares at him. “The first thing we need to do is find a fifth paladin.”

“But now, we can have Ryo pilot the Red Lion,” Keith says, stepping in between the Mamorite and his cousin.

Until Ryo groans, “Nah,”

“…”

Keith turns and asks, incredulously. “…What?”

She raises her shoulders and makes an ugly expression with her chin pushed down to her neck so that it folds. “I don’t want to.”

“What…why?” Allura questions, so very confused.

“Because you don’t need me to and I’d rather not have the responsibility.”

“But you piloted the Red Lion before,” Keith adds, even more confused.

“Yeah, for like an hour.”

“You have the qualities of the Red Paladin,” Allura comments.

Ryo snorts. “Ha, yeah, that’s not something I’m proud of.”

Allura blinks, shakes her head in disbelief, steps towards the human woman and gesticulates insistently. “I…you…But Shiro wanted Keith to be the Paladin of the Black Lion so-,”

“Ooh,” Ryo interrupts her with a grimace and she looks at Keith then back at Allura. She lifts her hand to scratch the back of her neck – another Shirog ane habit. “Is that-,” her hand goes down and she opens her palms, “ _wise?_ ”

“ _What_?” Keith barks at her.

Lance holds back his laughter. Pidge puckers her cheeks and readjusts her classes. Hunk starts whistling.

Ryo puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Look, koyangi-,”

“Stop calling me that.”

“I’ve known you for a long time and it’s definitely been a while. And I’m sure you’ve grown since I last saw you _but_ …you are just like me.”

“I…I…what?” Keith furrows his brows. 

Ryo winces slightly then continues. “We both have tempers. We both can let our impulses take the best of us -,”

“So?”

Now Ryo darkens her gaze so that her solemnity flows out in force. “Do you honestly think that you can lead this team?”

Keith balks. And during the pause that followed, he knows that she is right.

He does not dare look around the room. “I just…I want to..."

“Takashi believes in your potential,” Ryo says and everyone else notices how she uses the present tense. She does not believe he is gone. “I believe in your potential too. But you still need a guide. You’re only what- sixteen?”

“Well, actually, the earthlings all might be a year older,” Coran adds jovially, pulling up a timer set to the time periods of earth.

“So then what? Are you saying _you_ should be the Black Paladin?” Keith interrogates his cousin with a vicious attempt to keep a chill of embarrassment and anger from bubbling over.

She sees that and says, “No. I think Allura should be the Black Paladin.”

“What?”

Allura narrows her eyes. “Explain.”

Ryo huffs in and out. She’s been talking a lot in the past seven minutes. “You said that this Castle – ship – thing operates on Altean energy. _Amue_ – being of Altean blood, can pilot the Castle in your stead then. But the Lions are connected to _your_ specific life-force, if I remember that correctly. As soon as Amue wakes, she take over piloting the ship. So, my question is, how come no one thought that _you_ could be the Black Paladin?

Allura falters and gazes about the room to see expecting gazes. “I…I don’t…I don’t know.”

But then Pidge chimes in, “But it really isn’t our decision in the end.”

* * *

Lance lies upside down on one of the seats in the lounge room, his thin shapely calves sprawled out on the elevated level and his hair flopping down by where feet should be. He wonders if he is actually upside down because they are in a spaceship with artificial gravity.

He starts humming a show tune from a musical he cannot remember the name of until the doors hiss open.

He shoots up to see the hem of a white dress, repositions himself, and says, “Hey, Allu-ooh…hi,” Lance begins with conjured suaveness but stutters once he sees the _other_ Altean princess enter the room. “You’re Amue, right?”

“Yes,” she smiles sweetly and approaches. “You must be Lance. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

He blushes bashfully, trying not to eye her so obviously and nods. She steps down to him. He shoots up to a standing position almost instantly and she chuckles.

His cheeks burn an even brighter red.

“So what brings you here?” Lance asks. “I didn’t realize you were up and about. Ryoko said you would need more rest to recuperate.”

“Well,” she looks askance, “I’ve actually been up for a while but I cannot seem to find anyone.” She returns her gaze to him and asks, “Would you happen to know where they are?”

Lance huffs and partially rolls his eyes. “Oh, they’re still arguing about who should be the Black Paladin.”

“Oh,” She daintily lifts a hand to her lips and looks downwards in contemplation. A beat. Then she eyes him. “Shouldn’t you also be a part of their discussion? You are a Paladin yourself.”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “I’m okay with where I am. I mean…sure. There’s just too many cooks in the kitchen, you know?”

She shakes her head. “No, I do not know.”

“Oh, sorry, right,” he bites his lip and rubs his palms on his thighs. He does not think he ever had a conversation this long with a female alien before. “That’s an Earth idiom. Umm – it’s just…it means it gets too complicated when too many people have a say in something.”

“Ah, I see. But you should have some say, shouldn’t you?” she sits softly down onto a seat, like a dove perching a branch, and he follows. “I honestly believe that you should the Black Paladin.”

“…”

She smiles at him.

It takes Lance an eternity to discern what she just said. Something develops in him and flowers into _something_ that he cannot discern. “Eh?”

The alien continues, in a soft, musical, and mousy tone. “I had several opportunities to observe the Paladins of Voltron in battles – with records and whatnot. And while the Red Paladin is certainly talented, he lacks sensitivity.” Her eyes – which glint gold in the light, Lance observes – return to him. “Sensitivity that _you_ have, Lance.”

“I…” Lance looks at his knees and there, finds his hands shaking.

“I contend that you have potential far beyond that of the other paladins.”

“That’s not true,” Lance is quick to retort.

“But that is what I believe. You refer to the guidance of others, are fiercely loyal, calm in the face of battle – what other _person_ could make a leader as well as you?”

Lance inhales a short breath. His whole person shakes with realizing that the unknown variable fluttering in his stomach is the timid uncertainty of the affirmation of his worth.

His bottom jaw quivers as he blinks rapidly, glances once in her direction and mutters, “Thank you.”

She places a hand over the one that trembles above his knee. “If you wish, I can vouch for your candidacy as the Black Paladin.”

Lance gulps. “That would be-,”

The doors whir open again and Ryoko enters while looking at Pidge’s tablet. “Hey, Blue, did you-,” she mutters then looks up.

The alien smiles and Ryo’s face twists into confusion.

Lance quickly recalls Hunk mentioning that Ryo and Amue are probably a thing so he slips his hand from beneath hers and waves to Shirogane. “Hey, Ryo, we were just-,”

Ryo grits her teeth and her eyes flare in absolute fury. “You fucking bastard,” she shouts and bolts towards them. In an instant, the human woman is lunging across the room towards the alien with her arms outstretched. Before Ryo’s hands could reach a neck, however, the alien slips out from beneath and expertly whisks away to the side – the fabric of the dress flowing behind with the sound of a whip.

Lance jumps out of the seat as she lands on it. “Ryo, what the heck?! We were just-!”

Ryo quickly shifts off the seat and into a protective stance in front of Lance and he catches on when he looks up to see who he had thought to be Amue slowly morph into a bulkier figure.

“Did he do anything to you?” Ryo urgently asks Lance – her angry eyes still fixed on the transforming individual before them.

“What?” He jolts. “No, she…what?”

The alien chuckles, a husky, low, caramelized and distinctly eerie laugh, “I suppose I did not _properly_ introduce myself to you, Lance McClain, Paladin of the Blue Lion.”

Before them, in the white robes of an Altea of the past, stands a Galra who did not look like a Galra.

“I am Prince Lotor,” he announces haughtily.

* * *

Allura and Keith rush through the corridors of the castle.

“How did he get on the Castle?” she shouts acutely and crossly.

“I don’t know but Ryo said that she lost him. He might already be at a pod right now.”

“Ugh, I knew this was a bad idea,” she seethes as they bound around a corner.

This peeves Keith. “What else would we have done? Leave Ryo and your cousin to rot on his ship?” he shouts back as they still run.

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about,” Allura insists when they nearly reach the bay doors. She lengthens her spear and folds her dominant arm to the ready.

“Then what are you talking about?” He activates his bayard.

Allura gives him a patented glare. “Keith, we will talk about this _later_.” She slams on the control panel for the door.

The door bursts open, and they barrel in, only for them to see a dazed Lance in front of them and the fiery trails of blasters careening a pod into the dark abyss of space.

“Was that Lotor?” Allura questions as she steps forward and the external entrance to the Castle shuts and the airlock re-stabilizes the atmosphere.

Lance just mutters, “Yeah,” as he lowers his bayard and deactivates it. His helmet dissipates too.

Keith grabs Lance at the shoulder. “Why’d you let him go?” he accuses.

Lance slowly meets his gaze and shoves his hand off. “ _Because_ ,” the Blue Paladin whispers.

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Keith shouts as Lance turns to walk away.

“Lance, you just let the Prince of the Galra escape,” Allura cites while gesturing her hand at the direction Lotor flew.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Lance shouts back without the slightest backwards glance and he stalks to the bay doors.

“How come no one wants to fucking talk!?” Keith roars into the air. “We need to work as a team-,”

“And _what_?” Lance snaps piercingly and now, he turns. His eyes burn with a ferocity that surprises the others. “What, Keith? What team could you possibly be talking about because all I’ve been seeing is a bunch of people who can’t do shit as soon as Shiro disappears!”

He steps forward indignantly and now glares at Allura. “And you want to know why I let him go?” Lance gestures sharply to the inside of the castle. “It’s because he rigged explosives on all the castle’s airlocks that would detonate on his command.”

“And you believed him?” Allura questions back.

“And you would’ve let him?” he retorts.

Allura and Keith balk.

They glance at each other and share a look of surprise and concern. It occurs to them that this is the first time they have seen Lance lose his temper.

Lance exudes a long, heated breath. “I can’t lose anyone else. I’m not going to let that happen. I don’t care if it meant letting him go.” He returns to his trudging and leaves the pod bay in loud, angry steps.

“ _Lance_ ,” Allura calls after him with velvet worry.

But he is gone.

Her shoulders fall in a sigh. “I cannot believe he lost his composure like that,” she murmurs

Keith says flatly, “I can’t believe he ignored you.”

A beat.

Allura frowns and glares at him incredulously.

* * *

Lance meanwhile runs into Ryoko who is running his direction, holding onto the arm that got injured during her fight with the Galran prince in the lounge room.

“Is Lotor-?”

“Yes!” He heaves his arms into the air. “I let him go! _Sorry_!” he shouts facetiously. “He was going to-,”

“Because he put these up, right?” Ryo, with her good hand, pulls out a disabled device of cut wires from her utility belt. “Pidge and I found these on the airlocks. He exchanged his life for ours, I bet.”

Lance calms. “Yeah…I…”

Ryo drops the deactivated bomb in his hands and then pats him on the shoulder that Keith had grabbed earlier. “You did what you could, Blue. Thanks.”

Lance huffs. “…Yeah, uh, thanks.”

“Of course…” She opens her mouth to say something else – but the words linger in her throat. Until she finally asks, “Did he say anything to you?”

Lance looks at her – his expression unreadable. “Not really,” he lies before returning to his walk down the corridor. 

* * *

Just minutes earlier, Lance stared down the Galran prince through the sight on his bayard.

“You’re lying,” Lance responds to Lotor’s revelation of his explosives.

“But are you going risk it?” Lotor asks patronizingly back with one foot already in a pod.

“I can’t let you go.”

“But you also cannot let your friends die. And the range on this,” Lotor lifts his wrist to show off the remote device, “is actually quite short. Within less than a tick, I will be out of range.”

“You’re not giving me a lot of good options,” Lance retorts. His grip on his bayard tightens.

“Then how about this option?” Lotor muses aloud through the robust melody of his voice and he steps out of the pod and opens his chest out to Lance. “You can come with me.”

Lance nearly loses his grip on the rifle. “What?”

Lotor takes another step forward. “When I disguised myself as Amue, I meant everything I said to you. Lance, you have a talent that is being squandered here – a talent that could develop under my tutelage.”

“Uhhhh,” Lance sneers. “You’re Zarkon’s _son_ – there’s no way I’d go with you.”

Another step closer. “I am not my father, Lance. The last words he ever said to me were for me to never again come before him.” Lotor is now mere inches away from the barrel of Lance’s bayard. “The last thing I want is for his tyranny to continue. I just want to protect the ones closest to me.”

Lance glowers. “How do you know so much about us?”

At this, Lotor smiles and Lance sees how _human_ he seems to look.

“Because I observe as much as I can.” Lotor slowly walks backward to the pod. “And if you’re ever sick of being the seventh wheel…”

Lance gasps and Lotor takes the second of opportunity to clamber into the pod.

“…call me.” Lotor flings something at him and Lance instinctively reaches up to grab it.

Lotor powers up the pod and the doors to the infinite space of the Universe open, Lance’s helmet senses the change and materializes the coverage, Lance’s suit senses the sudden force pulling him into the vacuum of space and cements his boots to the bay floor, but despite all of this noise and commotion, all Lance can look at is a sleek, black, palm-size device in his hands.

When the doors behind him open, Lance quickly stows it away and just ruminates as Keith and Allura charge in.

He thinks about what Lotor said.

And so he thinks about what Lotor might mean.

And so he thinks about what the others might think – if he ever dares to tell them.

And so he thinks about all the alternatives his life could take from here on out.

Then he thinks about his worth.

And so he thinks about Shiro.

And so he thinks about the other Paladins, Allura, Coran.

And so he thinks about his family back on earth.

And so he thinks about maybe, and what if.

To protect them.

Then Keith shouts at him and Lance does not finish his thoughts until he is alone in his room, wondering.

* * *

 

Rule #9: Listen well but always stand up for what you believe in (because sometimes our beliefs might be the only thing we have left). 


	4. Rule #6: Dancing/Singing is only allowed if spontaneous

Ryo barges into Lance’s room and screams, with her eyes closed and her arms waving, “QUIERES BAILAR CONMIGO?!”

Lance, who was in the middle of removing a Black-Head Charcoal facemask from his t-zone, just blinks at her in the aftermath of shock from seeing a crazed Spanish-speaking woman charge into his room, which hasn't happened to him for nearly a year and a half. Then he mutters, slowly, “ _Sure_?”

She grins, “Great, ‘cuz guess what Hunk and Pidge charged for me?” She holds up a smartphone playing a muffled tune constituting of rapid trumpets, cowbells, and drums through its small speakers.

Lance immediately jumps up and starts screaming and stuttering in excitement. “You dance salsa?”

“Boy, I dance _Cuban_ salsa.”

Lance begins weeping and he sniffs dramatically as he inches to her and drapes his arms about her shoulders, “I’m going to marry you.”

Ryo laughs and then with a glint in her eyes, she takes his hands and excitedly murmurs, “There’s a legit ballroom.”

And Lance’s day became infinitely better.

* * *

Three minutes later, Ryo and Lance stand triumphantly before the core members of the Voltron team (plus Amue), both wearing old Altean robes and dresses taken from Allura’s wardrobe with half-permission.

Amue, who was told to rest in her chair and be the DJ, smiles faintly as Ryo winks at her. Around the duchess’ floating hover-chair is a sound-system that Pidge cobbled together for Ryo in exchange for a PSP she always had on her person since her trip to Jupiter. Pidge Gunderson needed her fix.

Amue merely sighs as she watches Ryo and Lance attempt to get the others into fancier garb. She had a lot to catch up on but she is immensely quick, although she would never admit it.

It was quickly explained that Hunk really did carry her onto the Castle of Lions but Lotor had shrunk himself and latched onto the Yellow Paladin’s armor as well, utilizing the shape-shifting abilities he inherited from his mother’s line. Then the Galran prince revealed himself when an opportunity arose for him to **observe**.

 _Which_ – was a skill that Amue picked up during her time with him.

She used her quiet, demure characterization as a mask to hide her calculating watchfulness. She knew things about Lotor that no one could ever dream of knowing. That was her shield, her wall. Something about her character that no one could pull away from her unless it were Ryo. But now…

Now, Amue reels at the fact that she gained an aunt/princess, an uncle, a whole entire new family, and new hope all within moments of finally waking.

She would wake intermittently throughout the period of being rescued from Lotor’s ship and now. For some reason, cryo-pods could never sustain her body for elongated periods of time so she always preferred natural sleep. (Ryo joked that Amue had cryo-insomnia.) This forced Lotor to pull her out of the pods throughout her incarceration on his ship after he found her in a ritual-induced sleep at a forgotten temple of the Goddess of All. It could only be in the safety of a temple, she muses, that she ever felt safe enough to sleep for eons.

But now, she is in the wake of a new form of safety that she never thought possible – she is in the presence of the Paladins of Voltron.

Who were definitely weirder than she had thought them to be.

“I do not understand,” Allura states indignantly with her hands on her hips. “What are we doing? We need you all to train as the new Paladin team of Voltron.”

Ryo quickly retorts with, “I still say that the Black Lion accepted me as a fluke because of how similar I look to Takashi …and besides, if I am the new so-called “ _leader,_ ” she uses air-quotes, “then this is the first part of my team-bonding exercises.”

There is a collective groan among the other paladins while Lance continues to beam mischievously.

“ _Dancing,”_ Ryo continues, “for humans, is proven to be one of the best ways to bond with a partner.”

Allura looks skeptical as Ryo continues pontificating upon how amazing dancing is.

Coran looks excited.

Ryo finally finishes her spiel on how the "very scientific justifications" for the greatness of dancing. And Allura finally asks the other paladins if this was true.

Hunk recalls Lance dragging him to a Cuban bar and forcing him to ask girls out to dance only for him to step on their toes and say something off. High school was not a fun time. Hunk feels his brows knitting at the anxiety that come and to come.

Pidge remembers how her mother forced her to attend ballet classes and how the girls would make fun of her turning her toes in instead of out for first position. And then Pidge smiles when she remembers how she beat the shit out of the “queen bee” and her mom settled on sending Katie to Tae-Kwon-Do.

Keith represses the memories of his aunt having him and the twins attend classes at the Garrison Youth center and vows that the people  on that ship must never know how he almost went National for swing dancing (no thanks to _Jessica Zhao_ who just **_had_** to break her ankle the day before, making both of them throw away two years of training and prep!). Keith glowers as he whispers, “ _Jessica Zhao_.”

Then all three collectively turn to Allura and state, “No.”

“Aww come _on_!” Lance exclaims.

Ryo quickly adds, “Yeah, and who knows how long the Mamorites will be asleep since there was only so much melatonin I had on me so-,”

“Ryoko, did you _drug_ them?” Amue calls out, accusingly.

Ryo waves at her and explains that it is only a supplement.

“What’s a supplement?” Coran asks.

“But what is this _slasa_?” Allura questions regally, not caring if the Mamorites were drugged or not. ~~One of them ate the dessert Hunk made for her.~~ “I recall Hunk explaining that it was a sauce for chip-adornment. Will we be using this _sauce_ in the dance?” she asks incredulously.

“No, salsa is just a term used for both the sauce you speak of but also of the greatest gift known to man,” Lance announces soulfully and he reaches out for Ryo’s hand and on cue, she takes it and he pulls her into a dip. He glances up suggestively, winks, and then murmurs dramatically, “ _The gift of dance_.”

“Amue!” Ryo shouts.

The Altean sighs gracefully and hits the play button on Ryo's phone, thrusting the ballroom into the melodious upbeat sounds of Cuban salsa music.

Ryo and Lance twirl about with quick steps and undulating hips to Hunk and Coran’s “oohs” and “ahhs” until the climax of the song where Ryo leaps at Lance vaults her into the air – Dirty Dancing style.

Coran claps vigorously.

Amue chuckles.

Hunk squeals.

Pidge raises her brows.

Allura hums out her being impressed.

Keith feels the bottom of his mouth drop to the floor in jealousy as he growls under his breath, “ _Jessica Zhao_.”

* * *

After their performance, Ryo and Lance finally convince the others to engage – to some extent. The basic step is shown and only somewhat mastered but that doesn’t stop the Paladins from getting it on.

When Ryo’s K-Pop songs filter through the speakers, everyone lets loose.

Ryo grabs Allura and turns her about and the Princess actually smiles.

Hunk and Pidge find their groove.

Coran is stellar, just leaping here and there.

Keith, still being in the closet about his dancing career, crosses his arms but relents to tapping his foot.

Partners switch here to there.

Lance tries to stick with Allura as much as he can but finds himself having more fun with Ryo egging him on to do aerials.

When a smooth merengue Spanish ballad comes on, and Ryo flashes him a toothy grin, Lance is struck by realization. He looks at her and asks, “Were you the one dating my sister a few years ago?”

Ryo pauses.

The others keep attempting to dance.

Lance lets go.

Ryo gives him a sad smile. “Just noticed, huh?" Then she coughs out a small, nostalgia-laden laugh, "She's the reason why I can dance.”

Lance is bludgeoned by the memories of his beautiful, perfect, older sister. And of home. “You kinda broke her heart.”

Ryo sighs bitterly and mutters, “She broke mine – it was a sad, mutual breaking of a lot of things.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, she tore up one of my plants.”

Lance chuckles, “That sounds like Yessenia.”

“It was my favorite plant too," Ryo emphasizes, "But I loved her so much, Lance…I just…I...”

Things connect. “You left for Jupiter.” 

“I left a lot of things.”

Lance winces. “I did too.”

“If you ever want to talk…”

“Yeah…”

"...I'm here." 

"...Thanks." 

And they share that remembrance for a moment until Lance puts up his hand again in request for hers and she beams at him as she takes it.

So again, in the rhythm of the beat, Lance leads Ryoko around the ballroom as they both show off to their friends with their footwork and fancy turns. He whisks her in and out of a pretzel move and Ryo laughs from the sudden spinning.

Until.

A sudden vibration.

A flash of home.

A spark of sunlight through their window.

A hand over hers when she cries at night.

A hearty laugh within the walls of their childhood bedroom.

A scar across the bridge of his nose.

His eyes.

The stars.

Ryo falls to the ground and everything stops.

Amue ends the music and Keith rushes to her instantly before the others even hear her weeping.

“What…what’s wrong?” Lance asks, absolutely petrified by the possibility that it was his fault.

“Did you guys feel that?” Ryo shouts as her whole body trembles and her palms tense against solid floor.

“What? Feel what?” Amue queries gently. She would lower herself but Keith already has his arms around her.

“I felt… I…I felt him.” Ryo looks up at her cousin as her tears drop down onto the floor of the ballroom. She grabs at Keith’s elbow with one hand as she grips at her heart with the other, wrinkling her shirt with intensity as she whispers, “I felt Takashi.”

* * *

Light-years away, Shiro wakes from his ritual slumber with a jolt. He cannot breathe. He shakes and his mind muddles through disorientation. A weighty tear streams down his cheek.

Through the film of shimmering white-gold of every known color of quintessence that encapsulated the ultra-pod he lays in, Shiro can see his friend – Matt Holt – mouthing the words, “What happened?”

Takashi huffs out arduously as he feels something akin to the mass of the entire universe suddenly leave his body. He closes his eyes to recall each sensation of the moment before.

He looks back up to Matt through the shimmer.

Then, he says - slowly, “Ryoko, my sister. I felt her.”

Then he looks at an alien priest who had put Shiro into that all-too-fantastical sleep.

“I need her.”

* * *

Rule #6: Spontaneous dancing/singing is only allowed if everyone participates. 


End file.
